Private Dancer
by Hades Lord of the Dead
Summary: Taylor's reappearance in the ED sends Cal and Ethan's lives into a spiral of murder and deception. Multi-chapter fic that becomes AU (with plenty of brotherly h/c!) Set after Flutterby, aired 17/10/15, so baby Matilda is still around. Cal and Ethan-focussed but features other characters. DISCONTINUED.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I began writing this before I had seen the minisode where Taylor gives Matilda to Cal, (it's only just been made available online), so hadn't realised that we actually _see_ her being chased by a policeman in the hospital. This was always going to be an AU, but just imagine that we haven't seen that proof to back up what she told Cal about being on the run etc.

Also this should be being updated fairly regularly as I have most of it just waiting to be edited now. I realise it's a long way past the episodes this story is concerned with, but hey ho who doesn't like a bit of Cal and Ethan and little baby Matilda? Set after _Flutterby._

* * *

 **Chapter 1 - D** **on't Turn Around**

Cal stormed into the kitchen that morning with a dour look on his face.

"Coffee," he grunted and flung himself into a kitchen chair. " _Now_."

Ethan, of course, was already wide awake. In that moment, Cal truly despised him.

"You're in luck. I've just made some."

 _Or maybe not_ , he reconsidered, as Ethan poured him a cup. He grasped for it with a reluctantly muttered "thank you" and drank deep.

A sudden hammering from the neighbouring flat made Ethan jump and Cal burn his mouth. Matilda, in her cot by the window, began to wail.

"Shhh, it's alright sweetheart," Ethan soothed, dashing over to pick her up. He rocked her gently until she calmed and returned to the table with her still in his arms. "This building work is going to be hell, isn't it?"

"Oh yes," Cal agreed emphatically. The landlord had dropped in last week to warn them about renovations underway next door, but now they were actually happening Cal found the concept far less acceptable. "The builders have very loud voices."

"I was wondering why you were up so early." Ethan shifted his hold on Matilda so he could grab his own coffee and take a sip. "Maybe you'll even make it to the hospital on time today!"

"I could have stayed in bed for another half an hour," Cal bemoaned, ignoring the jibe. " _Half an hour._ Are they going to start work this early every morning?"

"You could look on the bright side," Ethan suggested with an irritating cheeriness. "Plenty more time to spend with Toad."

"Mm, I suppose so." Cal leaned in close to blow his daughter a kiss, grudging a smile as he took her from Ethan. "What do you think of all this, hm Tilda? You want to spend some time with Daddy before he has to go to work and you're stuck with mean old Uncle Nibbles?"

"What?" Ethan's cheery mood disappeared all at once. "What happened to the creche?"

"About that..."

" _Caleb!"_

"I'll do it today!" Cal turned Matilda so she was facing Ethan. "But you could look on the bright side - plenty more time to spend with Toad!"

Ethan crossed his arms, but found himself relenting when Matilda gurgled happily at him. "You'll register today?"

"First thing."

"Alright then." Ethan took his niece back with a long-suffering air. "Go get dressed and don't forget to register, _first_ thing!"

"Cheers Nibbles." Cal flashed a grateful smile and went to get dressed, just as the hammering from next door started up again and Matilda began to scream. He had a feeling Ethan would regret his act of kindness.

* * *

As shifts in the Emergency Department went, Cal's was astonishingly slow. Mrs Beauchamp pounced on him as soon as he entered - late, despite the early start - to inform him they would be working RESUS together. With Connie there Cal was largely needed only to agree with her diagnoses and sign off on the odd piece of paperwork. An hour in and the highlight of his day was a photo Ethan sent of Matilda surrounded by bubbles with the caption _Bath time!_ Just as Connie began an argument with Rita over the new nursing rota, a casualty was brought in and he decided to take charge.

"What have we got Dixie?"

"This is Taylor Ashbie, suspected cocaine overdose. GCS is 10, irregular heartbeat, blood pressure is 140/90 and her temperature-."

Dixie's words faded into the background and Cal stared at the patient on the gurney. Taylor was nearly unrecognisable, blonde hair greasy and unkempt and eyes roaming restlessly beneath slitted lids. She was whimpering incomprehensibly and her shirt was stained with vomit.

"Cal?" Dixie's hand came to rest on his shoulder. They had reached RESUS. "You know her?"

He forced himself back into reality. "Um, yeah." Then to the room at large, "Can we get her on the bed please?"

"On my count." Cal wondered vaguely when Lofty had come into the room. "One, two, three!"

They lifted her onto the bed and her eyes fluttered open, searching for a while before alighting on his face. "Cal?"

"Yeah I- I'm here, Taylor. You're safe."

Dixie watched the exchange curiously. "Who is she? Girlfriend?"

"No," he answered shortly. "Not any more."

"You sure you should be treating her?"

Cal ignored the question. "Taylor how much cocaine did you take? Do you remember?"

"It wasn't me Cal." Taylor's breathing was strained and irregular. She reached blindly for Cal, who found himself suddenly unable to move. "I swear it wasn't me."

"Shall I get some diazepam?" Lofty suggested when it became clear Cal wasn't going to do anything. "Dr Knight?"

"It wasn't my fault, it wasn't... I'm sorry Cal." Taylor's hand found his and gripped it tightly. Her palm was warm and sweaty. "It wasn't me. You believe me, don't you? Cal?"

Cal swallowed. "Yes Lofty, some diazepam and um-" He withdrew his hand, trying not to care when Taylor whimpered his name. "- a- another doctor, I think."

* * *

After handing Taylor's treatment over to Zoe, Cal went to the staff room for an early break. There was a buzz in his pocket and he took his phone out.

It was another photo of Matilda, this time splayed on her back and giggling. One of Ethan's hands was in the picture holding a half-open nappy and the caption read, _Third poo of the day!_ Cal laughed out loud. Then he buried his head in his hands and fought the urge to cry.

How did Taylor still have this effect on him? Over half a year ago now she had been arrested. Was there something wrong with him, to still feel so much for her? He was brimming with questions. Was she still on the run? On parole? Had she missed Matilda? Had she missed _him_?

"You alright love?" Dixie smiled sympathetically from the doorway. Cal straightened hastily in his chair, plastering on a neutral expression. "She's Matilda's mum, right?"

"Yes. I hadn't seen her for a while. It was just a shock."

"Must be hard seeing her like that."

 _You have no idea,_ Cal thought. "Where did you pick her up from?"

"Her flat I think. 14 Robertson Place?"

Cal shrugged. It didn't ring any bells, but that was no surprise. The flat he'd thought she'd owned was a fake, another part of the scam.

"I don't know if I should tell you this," Dixie said, after a few moments of uncomfortable silence. "But there's some bloke with her, Leon? He's in the Relatives Room if you want to talk to him."

* * *

Cal's memory stirred when he saw Leon perched in the Relatives Room, scrolling absentmindedly through the pictures on his phone. He was a big guy, easily six foot, and dressed in a hoodie and jeans. They'd crossed paths at Taylor's "offices" at least twice, and both times Cal had mused to himself how he would never like to get on the bad side of someone so brawny.

Evidently Leon himself had no concept of the intimidating effect his muscular bulk had on others; when he saw Cal he scrambled to his feet with a look of panic and shoved his phone back into his pocket. "Oh Jesus. Mate, I'm not looking for any trouble, alright? And I couldn't get your money back for you even if I wanted, so-"

"I know." Cal raised his hands in a non-threatening gesture. "I'm not here about the money. I just wanted to ask some questions about Taylor."

"Oh." Leon lowered himself cautiously back into his chair. "Alright then."

"You found her, right? At her flat?"

" Well I guess it was her place. I hadn't seen her in a while, not since- well not since we had to finish that last scam with you," he admitted guiltily. "We all went our separate ways after that. Couldn't do much, once the police had our details."

"So when did Taylor get out of prison?"

"She never went to prison. None of us did."

"What?" If Taylor had never been in prison, why had she told him otherwise? Why had she given him Matilda? "Did she ever-"

"Excuse me." It was Charlie. "Dr Knight and er - Leon isn't it?"

"Yeah." Leon surged to his feet, clearly relieved to escape Cal's interrogation. "How's Taylor?"

Charlie hesitated and Cal's breath caught in his throat. He knew what that hesitation meant.

"She suffered a massive cardiac arrest," Charlie explained gently. "We did everything we could, but we couldn't get her heart started again. She died a few minutes ago."

"W- what?" Leon's relief mutated into shock. "No. No way."

Charlie lay a hand on Leon's shoulder, but looked directly at Cal as he said, "I know this must be very difficult to hear. I'm so sorry."

"But she didn't even do drugs..."

A thought struck Cal suddenly. "She had an infection." How could he have forgotten? "Weeks ago, I- I didn't tell Zoe. Maybe-"

"That would have had no bearing on anything," Charlie reassured. "Any infection she may have had was all gone. It was definitely the cocaine that led to the heart failure."

"But she didn't _do_ drugs," Leon repeated stubbornly. "I don't understand. How did this happen?"

Charlie started talking again - the usual platitudes that were never anywhere near enough - but Leon's words stuck in Cal's mind.

 _How did this happen?_

* * *

He found himself in the morgue.

 _It wasn't me, Cal. I swear it wasn't me._

He peeled the white sheet back reverently to reveal Taylor's face beneath. The nurses had cleared her up; any trace of illness was gone.

 _It wasn't my fault, it wasn't._

But if it wasn't her fault, whose was it? How did this happen?

 _I'm sorry Cal._

 _She'd_ taken the overdose and left him and Matilda alone. Again.

 _It wasn't me._

He ran a hand through his hair in agitation, mind spinning. Leon said she didn't do drugs... Could she have been forced? Had something pushed her to it?

 _You believe me, don't you? Cal?_

With one last, lingering look, Cal bent down and kissed her forehead. Still too numb to cry, he covered her back up with the sheet.

 _I believe you, Taylor._

He exited the morgue and, some time after that, the hospital. He needed to see her flat.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 - Two People**

One of the few things Taylor never lied about was her lack of family. A quick peek at her patient file revealed that she, like Cal, had no parents to speak of and, unlike Cal, no siblings either. It was all too simple to pilfer a set of keys from her personal effects. There were only two, one for the building and one for the flat itself, both attached to a panda-shaped keyring with the WWF logo on its stomach. It was the kind of thing Cal remembered from when he and Taylor had gone out. No doubt her Cancer Research wristbands and Help the Homeless t-shirt had served well to enforce the carefully cultivated charitable background, but Cal imagined they had all been thrown away months ago with her final scam. The panda keyring, for whatever reason, remained.

Robertson Place was completely unremarkable, but the sight of the grey, unimpressive flat block through Cal's car window made his heart hammer. Inside, peeling beige wallpaper lined the walls of corridors so narrow that Cal had to squeeze to one side to let a sharply-dressed man sidle past. He waited until the man's briefcase whipped out of sight around a corner and continued until he had reached Taylor's front door.

Her flat was smaller than his and Ethan's, but the furniture was laid out in a similar fashion. Cal's eyes were drawn to a cot in the corner of the living room and a small smile graced his lips as he pictured a newborn Matilda inside. He got closer and saw it was jammed with baby paraphernalia; a bright yellow blanket, a dummy, a half-assembled mobile and more than three dozen crumpled letters shoved untidily back into their torn envelopes. Cal picked these up and rifled through them.

They were all from St James's hospital and dated back several months, detailing a variety of pre- and post- natal sessions. Later letters urged Taylor to contact the maternity department, as she had missed several of her most recent appointments. This, Cal couldn't understand. If she had never been to prison, had all the medical support she needed, had enough money to buy this baby stuff, why had she given him Matilda? Where had her infection come from?

There was no birth certificate in the crib, but one of the letters did reveal a date of birth - the 2nd of September - which meant Matilda was around two months old. Now Cal thought about it, he really didn't have any information about his daughter's birth and any small detail, such as whether she had been premature or not, could have huge implications. He stuffed the letter in his coat pocket.

A quiet voice in the back of his head - probably Ethan's - suggested he leave now. He had everything relevant to Matilda and walking away would be easy. He could forget Taylor had ever existed.

 _It wasn't me Cal._

He wasn't an idiot. Taylor had lied to him again and again about their relationship, her charity, going to prison. She never loved him the way he loved her. Yet he couldn't shake the force behind her last, desperate words to him and soon he found himself in her bedroom.

The walls were bare and the bed unmade. Cal took another step into the room and jumped when something shattered under his shoe. He lifted his foot and winced at what he saw - the shattered remains of a syringe.

The thought of digging through Taylor's drawers and wardrobes felt disrespectful, but Cal did notice a business card on her bedside table, held down by one edge of a lamp. He picked it up to look.

 **Ancient Therapy Massage Parlour**

 _Holby's No. 1 Haven for Personal Healing, Growth and Discovery!_

A mobile number was scrawled in biro underneath the printed text in Taylor's handwriting. He pulled out his phone and dialled, glancing frantically between the card and his phone to be sure he got the number right.

"Hi this is Taylor Ashbie." Cal jumped, but it was just the voicemail. "I'm not able to reach the phone right now, but if you leave your name and number I'll get back to you and we can set up an appointment."

Cal hung up and, he barely knew why, saved the number. On the back of the card, in different handwriting, there was a note.

 _T,_

 _I miss you. Let's make another appointment soon?_

 _J xx_

Cal stared at the card for a few moments, pondering who "J" might be. He pocketed it with a sigh, cast a final glance around the room, and decided it was time to go home.

* * *

Ethan's day with Matilda had been a great deal more enjoyable than he planned to let on to to Cal. Aside from the noise of the building work next door, there had only been one minor blip to his happiness; Mrs Beauchamp had called. Apparently Cal had disappeared midway through shift, leaving the ED short of staff. Ethan apologised profusely for his brother's absence and also for being unable to fill in as he was babysitting all day. Connie had growled something threatening and slammed the phone down, leaving Ethan to do his best to distract himself from brother-related worries. He played with Tilda until the builders went home and she was finally able to fall asleep, then turned his attention to cooking dinner. Cal came in as he was pulling the bolognese from the oven.

"And where have you been?"

"Don't start." Cal slung his coat over the back of a chair and went over to Matilda in her crib. "Hello Toad."

"Don't wake her," Ethan warned. "The building work kept her up all day."

"Ah." Cal resisted the compulsion to pick up his daughter and hold her close, kissing her on the cheek instead before going to the kitchen table. Ethan had laid out two steaming plates and some cutlery. "This smells great."

"You know," said Ethan pointedly, as Cal set to work on his meal. "The point of me looking after a grizzly baby all day was so _you_ could go to work."

"Taylor died."

Ethan blinked. Cal had announced it so casually, between mouthfuls, that he was sure he must have misheard. "Excuse me?"

"Taylor died." Cal refused to meet Ethan's eyes and stabbed violently at his spaghetti as he spoke. "Drug overdose. She was brought to the ED, but her heart failed."

"Oh Cal I- I'm sorry." Ethan didn't know how to feel. This was the woman who had broken his brother's heart, abandoned her child, stolen what was left of his mother's inheritance. Somehow he didn't think Cal was seeing it that way. "Did you um- did you treat her?"

Cal shook his head and launched into an explanation of the day's events. Ethan did his best not to interrupt, but he couldn't help the odd redundant clarification ("She was never in prison?" "You _stole_ her keys?!") and by the end of it all he still didn't know how to feel.

"The thing is," Cal had lain his fork aside, meal half-eaten. "I think she was in danger. Leon - the guy she came in with - he said she didn't do drugs. And why would she leave Matilda with me if she wasn't on the run? She must have felt threatened somehow."

"Leon was in on the charity scam too Cal." Ethan's meal, too, was abandoned. "Did you ever think that maybe he was lying?"

"She'd just died. He was devastated." _So was I._ "There's no way he was lying. And when I went to her place I found this." He pulled out the business card and handed it over. "I called the number and it went straight to _her_ voicemail. I think she worked at this Ancient Therapy place. Maybe "J" was one of her clients?"

Ethan raised his eyebrows at the scribbled note. "From the look of this they were more than just a "client"..."

"Well anyway," Cal pressed on, ignoring the twinge of discomfort at the thought of Taylor with someone else. "I think we should go and talk to the people on Colston Alley. Someone will know more, won't they?"

"I understand you want answers," Ethan said, slowly. "But - and I'm very sorry to be so blunt - she's dead. Unless you think someone physically forced her to take an overdose I don't see what there is to be done."

"But you weren't _there,_ " Cal insisted. "You didn't hear what she said, the way she said it!"

"But I know what she's like Cal. You can't ruin your career for someone who took advantage of you - took advantage of _me!_ "

"It's always about the money with you, isn't it?" Cal huffed, and Ethan decided now wasn't the time to bring up his forgotten promise to pay back what he, and then Taylor, had stolen. "What if she was forced to take it? Maybe by the same person who forced her to give Matilda away."

"We've been down this road before Cal," Ethan said wearily. "What are you going to gain from dragging this all back up?"

"I want answers, Ethan!" Cal exclaimed. "I want to know why she did what she did! Leaving her baby, lying about prison, there has to be some reason for it all!" He broke off, rubbing angrily at his eyes. "I know you think she was pure evil, but it's more than that. I don't expect you to understand." Matilda started crying, woken by the raised voices. "Oh no, Tilda, shh..."

Ethan watched Cal lift his daughter up into his arms, rocking her gently and cooing.

"You're right," he said, when she was settled again. "I don't understand. I think you should forget about her and you say you can't. So - so I suppose I should come with you."

Cal's eyes widened. "What?"

Ethan nodded, resolve hardening. "I'll come with you to Ancient Therapy and ask whatever questions you want answers to. _If_ ," he added in a tone that brooked no argument, "you promise you won't let this interfere with your work at the ED."

Cal lowered Matilda back into her cot. "I can do that. But why the sudden urge to help me?"

"I always want to help you Caleb." Ethan's words were unusually solemn. "I don't think this is the right thing to do, but all in all I'd rather you didn't do it alone."

"Well... thank you. I think." Cal took his coat from the back of his chair. "We should get going straight away then."

"Get some sleep first," Ethan advised, going to his laptop on the sofa. "They won't be open yet and you're working a shift tomorrow afternoon, remember? We'll go in the morning."

"What about Toad?"

"We'll drop her at the creche."

"Or we could leave her with Dixie!" Cal suggested with a suspicious level of enthusiasm. "She was so great with her last time and she was the one who brought Taylor in so she-"

"You forgot again, didn't you?"

"I had other things on my mind! Tomorrow afternoon I swear I'll do it."

"Forgive me if I don't believe you, but your track record isn't exactly impressive." Ethan clicked through Ancient Therapy Massage Parlour's website with a frown. "This is a terrible website. There's no booking page, no treatment packages..."

"We're going to ask about Taylor, not get a couple's massage." Cal went to hang up his coat and remembered the letter he'd found. "Oh by the way, I know Matilda's birthday now."

This drew Ethan's attention away from his laptop. "What? How?"

"I found this at Taylor's flat," said Cal, dropping the letter in Ethan's lap. "Little Toad was born at St James' Hospital at 3:17pm on the 4th of September."

"You should phone St James'. Try and talk to this er..." Ethan scanned the letter. "Dr Wilton about Matilda's medical information."

"That's what I was thinking." Cal yawned and made for his bedroom. "I'll text Dixie and then I'm going to hit the hay. See you tomorrow."

"Goodnight."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 - Fire Down Below**

"Thanks for this Dix." Cal handed the baby over, speaking in a whisper. "She's just sleeping now, but she'll need a feed in about 20 minutes."

"Thanks for the help, Cal!" Ethan wheezed, laden with all variety of baby equipment and begrudgingly bringing up the rear. "You couldn't have carried _any_ of this?"

"I was carrying Toad, the most important thing," Cal responded breezily, lifting a large nappy bag from where it was slung over Ethan's shoulder and dropping it inside Dixie's front hallway. "There you go. I helped."

Ethan growled something under his breath and Dixie smiled indulgently at their bickering.

"Brothers, eh. You two almost make me sorry I don't have any. Here you go Ethan," she took the remaining equipment with the arm not holding Tilda, and together they got it all inside. "What are you two up to today then? Connie got you both on shift?"

"Yes-,"

"No-,"

Both brothers exchanged a guilty glance, mouths snapping shut. Dixie looked between them both.

"Sorry, was that a yes or a no?"

"It- ow! - it's a no," Ethan said, after a not-so-subtle stamp on the foot from Cal. "Sorry. I was confused."

"So what _are_ you doing?"

"W- we... um... we're..."

"Going to therapy?"

Ethan looked aghast at Cal. "No we're not!"

"It's nothing to be ashamed of." Cal clapped a hand to Ethan's shoulder and shrugged at Dixie. "What can I say? It's a sort of couple's therapy only, you know. Not. Because we're brothers."

"Right... but why exactly-,"

"Parenting. It's tough Dixie, it's very tough and you need to be a unit if you're going to manage it effectively so er-" Cal's bullshit had officially run out. "Yeah. Parent... brother... therapy."

Dixie decided not to push the issue, and asked instead, "So you've done the paternity test?

"Well I-,"

"No."

"-am _going_ to," Cal finished. He was still gripping Ethan's shoulder, and used the leverage to steer his brother back toward the car. "Right, so see you later Dixie!"

"See you." Dixie shut the door and let out the giggle she'd been holding. "You're going to have quite a time of it with those two looking after you Matilda."

The baby slept on, blissfully oblivious.

* * *

They arrived on Colston Alley, pulling up in front of an Oriental Supermarket.

"I think Google Maps might have screwed us over."

Ethan pulled up the app on his phone. "It says this is it."

"Doesn't look like a massage parlour to me."

"No, but- ah!" Ethan spotted a woman walking in their direction. "Maybe she'll know where it is." He rolled down his window and stuck his head out. "Excuse me? Um, excuse me? Excuse me!"

She glanced nervously over to him and sped up.

"How rude."

"Like I said, it's a dodgy part of town. Maybe she thought you were about to try and bundle her into the car."

"Really Cal, it's 11 in the morning..."

"Wait, look!" This time Cal pointed. The woman had disappeared through a grimy door sandwiched next to the Oriental market. "Maybe that's it. Come on."

Ethan looked doubtful as he followed Cal to the door. "It's probably her flat. There'd be a sign or something if a massage parlour were here."

"I'm not sure a massage parlour _is_ here..." They had reached the door and Cal pointed at the faux-gold numbers nailed to it, so encrusted in dirt that they had been practically invisible at a distance. "141. This is the place."

"Sorry, wait a minute If this isn't a massage parlour then what-,"

Cal shhed him and went inside. Frown deepening, Ethan followed.

It wasn't shabby exactly, but that was more because it was so sparsely decorated than anything else. There _was_ a reception desk against the farthest wall, with the woman from outside behind it. On the wall behind her head there was a sign reading "Ancient Therapy Massage" in bold, black font.

"Oh, hello again," Ethan nodded to the receptionist. "Sorry I was only trying to get your attention outside because I didn't realise where the-"

Cal elbowed him in the ribs and he fell silent.

"We were hoping to book an appointment with Taylor." Cal crossed his arms on the reception desk, a move of casual flirtation that Ethan had witnessed far too many times when his brother addressed members of the opposite sex in the ED.

"She's unavailable." The receptionist was unfazed by Cal's charms. "If you want to tell me when you'd like the appointment then I can tell you who's available."

"What about now?"

Her eyebrows edged upwards. "Now? I'm afraid that's not possible."

"Why?"

"Because we don't do daytime appointments."

"Isn't that bad for business?" From the corner of Ethan´s eye he spotted Cal's sudden smirk, but decided to ignore it. "What about all the people who want appointments in the day?"

"Most clients are satisfied with our nighttime service. It's convenient and helps us keep our guarantee of discretion."

"Discretion? But why-,"

" _Thank you._ " Cal shot Ethan a glare that translated to _shut up_. "We'd like to call later and make an appointment, if that's alright?"

"Whatever you like."

"But Cal, shouldn't we-,"

" _Later_."

Cal tugged Ethan out the way they had come. Once they were safely back in the car, he burst out laughing.

"I fail to see what's so funny," Ethan sniffed. "And what kind of a massage parlour doesn't offer appointments in the daytime? There's something very fishy - _what?!"_

Cal's laughter had renewed with double the vigour, and his face was turning red with the force of his guffaws.

"It- it _isn't_ a massage parlour!" he finally managed to squeeze out.

"But the sign said "massage" and the card-,"

"Massage offered only in the evenings? From a company that operates from an office no-one could find unless they knew exactly what they were looking for? With a website that doesn't have any actual information on it? Come on, you're the smart one."

"I still don't-,"

"It's a _brothel_ , Ethan."

"What!" Ethan's yelp sent Cal into another set of hysterics. "No, that can't-, but the... oh."

"You are something else." Cal wiped away tears of laughter and got the engine started.

Ethan was blushing furiously. "It's not the first thing your mind jumps to."

"Really?"

" _Mine_ jumps to then," he begrudgingly amended. "Anyway what does that mean for, you know, Taylor? She was working as a prostitute?"

"It makes sense, doesn't it? The cocaine, abandoning Tilda, all of it." For someone who had just discovered his ex girlfriend had gone on to become a prostitute, Cal seemed remarkable chipper. "I knew there was a reason and this must be it."

"I'm still not sure what you're getting at."

"She can't have chosen this," Cal explained, jiggling in his seat in some strange mix of excitement and agitation. "Someone was coercing her. The same person who gave her the drugs, who made her give up Tilda. Maybe even that J guy from the business card, he clearly had a thing for her."

"Maybe..." Ethan said. "But aren't you jumping the gun a bit? And what more can you even do to find out if you're right?"

"There'll be something." Cal spoke with grim determination. "We'll pick up Tilda, head home and-,"

"And you have a shift at the hospital," Ethan finished, firmly. "Don't forget our deal. If I help you with this you can't let it affect your work life."

Cal pursed his lips and said nothing.

"You're not sabotaging yourself any more over a woman who conned you. _And-,_ " Ethan added with emphasis, "you're not sabotaging Tilda's care either. Once you've dropped us off call that Dr Wilton and check there's nothing we should know about her. And book the creche!"

Cal could see Ethan would concede nothing further and grumbled an affirmation.

* * *

"Your daughter," Ethan snarled when Cal got home from work, "has kept me awake all day." He was hunched over a laptop in the living room, eyes shadowy from lack of sleep.

"Oh so she's my daughter now? I thought we were waiting for the results of the paternity test?"

"Only a child of yours could be so calculatingly malicious," Ethan muttered darkly, and went back to his laptop. "I've been researching prostitution."

"That... wasn't what I was expecting you to say."

"It's fascinating." Ethan caught Cal's look. "Oh, not in _that_ way." He swivelled his laptop around and Cal caught a glimpse of a terrifyingly dense Word document. "I've been compiling information and the history around it alone-,"

"Do we have anything to eat?" Cal interrupted, going to the fridge.

Ethan put his laptop to the side, settling back against the cushions of the sofa and closing his eyes. "Not unless you've bought the groceries."

Cal wrinkled his nose; opening the fridge door revealed two eggs, three cans of beer and nothing else. "Liquid dinner it is then. And I'll leave the research to you, I think. Batman doesn't do research."

"With all his intensive training I doubt Batman drinks much beer either. Doesn't lend itself to his physique."

"Aaand the fact you know that shows who Robin is in this dynamic," Cal concluded. He popped the cap from the bottle, and went to join Ethan in the living room. "I called Ancient Therapy today, made an appointment with a woman called Serena."

Ethan made a strange, strangled kind of noise. "There's a _baby_ in the room next door."

"Not in _that_ way," Cal echoed Ethan's words from earlier. "I just want to talk to her. The receptionist says Serena and Taylor knew each other. I'm paying her £100 for the hour, she should give us something to work with."

Ethan groaned and forced himself up from the comfort of the sofa cushions. "I suppose that means I'm not getting to sleep yet then?"

The doorbell rang and Cal at least had the grace to look apologetic. "Not yet. Sorry."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 - Girls**

Cal opened the door to a slim woman with short blonde hair, heavy makeup and a bulky coat draped over her. "Caleb Knight? I'm Serena."

"Call me Cal." Cal stood aside to let her through, but she stopped short when she saw Ethan on the sofa. "Don't worry, that's just my brother."

"Your brother?" Neither Cal nor Ethan could place Serena's lilting accent, but both could detect the revulsion in her voice. "So, you both want-?"

"No," Cal interjected swiftly. "We don't want anything like that."

" _Nothing_ like that," Ethan emphasised for good measure. "At all. We wanted to ask you some questions. About Taylor Ashbie?"

Serena looked between them warily. "Are you police?"

"Taylor and I used to date," Cal explained. "Maybe she mentioned me?"

"No." Cal winced at Serena's blunt reply. "And if you want to know where she is, I have no idea. I haven't seen her in weeks."

"You mean you don't know?"

"Don't know what?"

Cal and Ethan exchanged a look.

"I think maybe you should sit down..."

* * *

She didn't cry when they broke the news, but her fingers trembled as she accepted a cup of tea from Ethan. He and Cal had switched places so that Serena and Cal were next to each other on the sofa. All the better, Ethan thought, for Cal's 'interrogation' techniques (read: borderline flirting).

"I hadn't seen her for months," Serena said after taking a few sips. "We spoke a bit, when she joined in January."

Cal frowned and Ethan knew why. He and Taylor were still an item in January.

"Then in April she disappeared," Serena continued, oblivious to Cal's inner turmoil. "Girls like her do. They get some money when they're out of work, then leave when another job comes up."

"What sets apart girls like her from girls like you?"

Serena shifted uncomfortably. "I've been in this job since I was sixteen. I used it as a way to get a visa. The forms say I'm a masseuse, but... well, you know."

"And now?" he pressed. "Why don't you leave?"

"It isn't possible. I don't have any experience and they'd never give me a reference. Then there is my brother, he has a job with them too. Helping collect debts, that kind of thing. In his line of work, people never leave. And I can't leave without him."

"Yes, but-," The unmistakable wail of a baby cut Ethan off. "Oh, sorry." He hurried out, calling back, "I told you she's been restless Cal!"

"You... have a baby." Serena was nonplussed when he re-entered with Tilda tucked in his arms. "She's beautiful."

"Actually she's my baby," Cal said, standing to take Tilda. "In theory, at least. And Taylor's."

Serena turned her head sharply to him. "Taylor had a baby?"

"You didn't know?"

"Of course not! You can't-," Her voice broke, and she swallowed, eyes glistening. "You can't have children, in this line of work."

"I thought it was quite common?" Serena fixed Ethan with a stare. "Sorry, I've just been um... researching..."

"It's common if you're not careful," Serena snapped. "But Ancient Therapy has very specific standards. I won't go into details, but the effect of pregnancy on the female body is unacceptable to them. I've taken enough morning-after pills to know," she added bitterly. "Are you sure the baby is hers?"

"Definitely," Cal affirmed. "There were letters from a maternity ward in her flat that prove it."

"Then I don't understand how she managed to come back. Maybe if it had been longer since the birth, her body had time to get back to what it used to be, but not so soon. Unless..." she trailed off, thoughtful.

"What?"

"There was a man," she said, slowly. "When Taylor started, she told me that one of her clients had fallen in love with her. She laughed about it, said he paid well. After she left he refused to book anyone else. Maybe when she came back he was her only client?"

"Do you know his name?" Cal asked eagerly. "Did it begin with J?"

"Yes. John Smith, like half the men that book with us." She checked her watch and got to her feet. "Your time's up; I have another booking."

"Right, I'll get your money."

Cal left, leaving Ethan and Serena alone. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Why don't you go to the police? You know enough to get Ancient Therapy shut down."

She snorted derisively. "You know it's funny. Taylor's mystery man, I think he wanted to save her. Pretty blonde English girl and he probably thought she'd been forced into this life. Your brother clearly thinks that way too. But people like me... nobody wants to save us. Not really."

"Except Taylor's dead," Ethan pointed out gently. "And you're not. You don't have to wait for someone else to save you."

"You don't know what you're talking about," she said harshly, just as Cal came back into the room. She snatched the money from him and made for the door. "You can't help me, because you don't live in _my_ world. Do your best not to get dragged into it."

The door slammed definitively shut behind her and Cal looked from it to Ethan in some bemusement.

"What did I miss?"

* * *

Both brothers sat in the living room half an hour later, Matilda still in Cal's lap. He was fiddling with the Ancient Therapy business card, turning it over from Taylor's handwriting to J's again and again.

"We should contact the police," Ethan finally broke the silence. "Tell them everything we know and get the brothel closed down."

"We'll limit our routes to getting more information on Taylor."

"So what do you suggest?"

"I think we should go back to her apartment." Cal pulled the panda keyring from his pocket. "I still have the keys. We could go now."

"Now? Why not tomorrow?"

"I'm not waiting. You can stay here if you want, but I'm not wasting time."

"I didn't say I didn't want to come, but it's nearly 2 in the morning-,"

"I'm going. I don't care if you come or not."

"Fine," Ethan huffed. "Then I suppose we'd better hope Dixie is willing to babysit again."

* * *

"I can't believe we're breaking in."

"It isn't breaking in if you have the key," Cal shot back at his brother, using said-key to unlock Number 14. As they stepped inside, his foot met something on the doormat. "Hello, what's this?"

Ethan scrabbled for the light switch, and the bulb came to life in time for Cal to pick up the offending object; a letter.

"No address or stamp," Ethan observed. "Must have been hand-delivered. Um, should you really be doing that?"

Cal was ripping open the envelope. "She's not going to see it, is she?"

"Well no..."

"It's J!" Cal exclaimed, and flashed the letter in Ethan's direction. "We've found him!"

 _Taylor,_

 _I miss you. Please, don't do this to me. We can still make things work, I swear, and everything will be fine. But be careful, please? Don't do anything stupid. Call me, write, whatever you want. Just please get in touch. I can't bear this. I'm here for you, whenever you need me._

 _Jamie_

Ethan was majorly less enthusiastic than Cal. "Jamie isn't much more to go on than J."

"Well it's more than we had before," he insisted stubbornly, tucking the letter with reverence into his inside coat pocket. "Let's keep looking, maybe we'll find something else."

They searched through the rest of Taylor's apartment and this time Cal didn't hold back. Her wardrobe, kitchen cupboards, DVDs - no stone was left unturned. Finally, in the drawer of her bedside table, he found something.

"Ethan!"

"What is it?" his brother called from the other room.

"I found a photo!" It was in fact several photos, all on one strip, the kind you'd get out of a do-it-yourself photo-booth. It showed Taylor and a man who looked a little older, both of them pulling different silly poses. "It's Taylor, with some guy... I think I've seen him before?"

Ethan entered the room, and peered over Cal's shoulder at the pictures. "That's the MP for Holby East!"

Cal blinked. "Is it?"

"Yes, James Radley. I voted for him." Ethan's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Where do you know him from?"

"I saw him," Cal replied, casting his mind back to a few days earlier. The man he'd squeezed to the side in the corridor for, sharply dressed and carrying a briefcase. "He was here, in the building. He must be Jamie, from the letter!"

"It certainly seems so." Ethan took the pictures and peered a little closer. "Yes, that's definitely him. Goodness. A politician falling in love with a prostitute. That would make for quite a scandal. I think he's married too."

"Of course!" Cal's eyes lit with sudden revelation. "She was blackmailing him! A scandal like that, it would ruin his career. He's behind this somehow."

"Behind... what, exactly? She wasn't murdered, she took an overdose."

"What if he was threatening her? He knew if she spoke to the press his career would be over. She was frightened, _that's_ why she gave Tilda to me and why she ran after. She was trying to protect us!"

"But if he _was_ somehow responsible, why deliver a letter today?"

"I want to go and see him. We can find his offices, can't we? Online?"

"And do what? There's no evidence for your theory. There isn't even really a theory at all." The alarm on Ethan's phone chirped. "Oh for God's sake. I didn't think we'd been here that long, I'm due at work in an hour."

"I'll drop you off," Cal offered. "Let's go."

* * *

The car pulled up outside the hospital, but Ethan didn't get out.

"I don't think I have ever been this tired in my life," he said dully. Cal side-eyed him, observing slumped posture and glassy eyes. "Um, you need to pick up Tilda from Dixie's in a couple of hours."

"Yeah, sure."

"Thanks." Ethan was too tired to pay any heed to his brother's reticence, and he stumbled out of the car. Cal watched him disappear into the hospital, then drove away. He had work to do.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 - Complicated Disaster

"Excuse me, is James Radley here?"

"Do you have an appointment?" On another day Cal might have tried to flirt with the sweetly smiling receptionist. "If not you can come to his weekly surgery to meet constituents, every Friday lunchtime."

"Tell him it's about Taylor," Cal said. "I'll wait."

He hadn't intended to go against Ethan's wishes. At first he'd just gone home and started researching James Radley, something to tide him over while he waited to pick up Matilda. Radley _was_ married, like Ethan had thought, and with two children to boot. About twenty years older than Taylor, he'd worked in politics all his life and, in addition to being MP for Holby East, he was the chairman of a select committee working alongside the department of education. Cal scoured website after website, but couldn't unearth anything other than praise for Radley's work. And, of course, his office address.

No, he hadn't intended to go against Ethan's wishes. Funny how that never seemed to make a difference.

* * *

"Dr Hardy!" Connie's commanding tone cut through Ethan's sleepy fugue and he jolted into awareness with heart hammering. "If you're quite ready to return to work?"

He sprang to his feet and teetered a little before righting himself. Despite best intentions, he must have fallen asleep during his break. "Sorry, Mrs Beauchamp."

"You're on cubicles."

He dragged a hand through his hair, straightened his glasses and followed Connie from the staffroom.

* * *

"Thank you Sofia," Radley said to the receptionist, but his eyes were fixed on Cal. "Perhaps it's better if we speak in private?"

"It's Caleb Knight." Cal met Radley's gaze with an equal intensity. "My name. And if you want to speak alone we'd better do it outside, in the open."

A flash of irritation rippled across Radley's face, but he nodded tightly in assent.

"-and then, well, I heard a snap," the young patient, Ethan had already forgotten his name, finished. He was a rugby player who had hobbled into the ED after a tackle gone wrong. "It's an old injury, so you'll have made my day if you tell me it's not broken."

"Okay, well let's have a feel and see exactly what we're dealing with." Ethan tried and failed to fight down a yawn. "Late night, sorry. How far can you bend your-"

"Ethan?" Rita popped her head around the curtain. "Sorry to interrupt. Dixie's here. She says Cal never picked Matilda up. I can take over if you want?"

What Ethan really wanted was a responsible brother who was where he said he would be and about two days' worth of sleep. Neither seemed especially likely.

On the street outside his office, Radley rounded on Cal. "Alright, what is this about? Are you with the press?"

Cal sneered. "That's all you care about, isn't it? Do you even give a damn, now she's dead?"

Radley's face paled. "What?"

"She was brought into hospital and died, days ago."

"No. No she can't be."

"You can stop acting so surprised." Cal drew closer, so he and Radley were nose to nose. "You're a piece of cowardly scum and I know that _you did this._ "

Radley let out a bellow of rage and lunged at Cal. The two men toppled over and began tussling on the pavement.

"Showing your true colours," Cal gasped, just in time for Radley to strike him across the jaw. "Was this the side of you only Taylor got to see?"

"You bastard! You-!" Radley broke off with a grunt as Cal kneed him in the stomach. He punched back in retaliation and the force of it sent Cal's head into the pavement, hard. Cal's vision blurred, and he could do nothing as Radley raised his hand for the final blow.

"Get off him!" a voice called out, seconds too late.

* * *

Was there some opposing equivalent, Ethan wondered, to arriving in the nick of time? Arriving _out_ of the nick of time, perhaps? Whatever it was, he had managed it.

"Get off him!" He watched celebrated MP James Radley pummel Cal as if he were a punching bag. "Stop it! Stop it now!"

He put down Matilda's carrier and rushed forward, using the element of surprise to pull Radley off Cal and pin his arms behind his back.

"What the hell is going on?" Ethan demanded, struggling to keep Radley under control. "Cal? Are you alright?"

Cal rolled onto all fours, breathing raggedly. "Mr Radley and I had a disagreement. Where's Matilda?"

"In her carrier, over there." Ethan gestured with his head and Cal got unsteadily to his feet, tottering over to check the baby was okay. "Mr Radley, if I let you go will you please promise not to attack my brother again?"

"Your brother? What is this, an ambush?"

"Hardly. Cal, she's fine, don't pick her up!" Ethan released Radley in favour of making sure Cal wasn't about to drop the baby on its head. "You probably have a concussion."

"Probably." Cal let Ethan take Matilda, and shot a burning glare in Radley's direction. "No wonder Taylor was terrified of you."

Radley barked a short, humourless laugh. "Terrified? I love-," He broke off, looked to the ground. " _Loved_ her. Why would she be scared of me?"

"Because you were blackmailing her," Cal spat, and pulled the letter from his inside coat pocket. ""Don't do anything stupid"? "Be very careful"? You didn't want her to share her photos with the press; it would ruin your career, not to mention your marriage."

"Oh for- my marriage is already ruined!" Radley exclaimed impatiently. "I left my wife as soon as Taylor came back to Ancient Therapy. I want-, _wanted_ to be with her, career be damned. I sent that letter because I hadn't heard from her in weeks and I thought maybe she was in trouble. I didn't want her to move or break contact, not when I could help her."

"You didn't help her with the baby though, did you?"

"Baby?" Radley looked to Ethan, and Matilda in his arms. "That- _that's..._ Taylor's?"

"And mine _,"_ Cal said, possessively. Ethan decided not to bring up the paternity test. "Taylor brought her to me two weeks ago, saying she'd just escaped from the police."

"The police? But she was never-,"

"I know _._ Which makes me wonder what it was she was so frightened of, that she felt she had to abandon her child?"

"I have no idea," Radley said mournfully, eyes still on Matilda. "She never even mentioned a baby to me. If she had I would have helped. I don't think anything would have made me happier." He tore his gaze from the baby, and looked regretfully back at Cal. "I'm sorry, for the fight."

"Well, I'm sure Cal wasn't entirely blameless," Ethan answered when it became clear Cal wasn't going to. He lowered Tilda back into her carrier. "I think it would be best if we got the two of you to Holby City Hospital. We could give you a lift?"

"I'll take myself to St James's," Radley said, to Cal's immense relief. "I know someone there. But if you need anything, call my office number. Money, connections, whatever. If someone really is responsible for Taylor's death then I want to get them put behind bars."

"Well we do have that in common," Cal acknowledged begrudgingly. At an insistent nudge from Ethan he added, "And I'm... sorry too. For the fight."

"Yes, well..." Radley cleared his throat. "The things we do for love, eh?"

 _You have no idea_ , Ethan thought glumly to himself, and helped Cal to the car.

"We don't need to go to the ED," Cal mumbled once he had clambered into the passenger seat. "We have the first aid kit at home."

"Your head is bleeding, try and get some pressure on it," Ethan instructed him brusquely, getting Matilda set up in the back. "And I have to explain why I disappeared mid-shift so like it or not we _are_ going the ED."

"And tell them what?"

"I'm sure we'll think of something."

* * *

"You slipped and fell in the shower?" Connie's eyes bore a hole into the side of Cal's head. It made him almost grateful to be getting stitches; at least he didn't have to look her straight on. "A head wound, minor concussion and bruised ribs. All from an unfortunate tumble?"

"That's right," Cal ground out through clenched teeth. "Clumsy, I suppose."

"Finish up and send him home with some painkillers," Connie snapped at Robyn, who was doing the stitches. "I don't have time for this nonsense."

She stormed away.

"Did you really fall in the shower?" Robyn asked after a few moments silence and Cal exhaled slowly through his nose. Evidently he was going to have to repeat this conversation several times before he was checked out.

* * *

It was late by the time they left the ED. Cal had a suspicion Connie had purposefully delayed the discharge paperwork, but at least she had signed off on a surplus of painkillers. They took the edge off the pain and made him _very_ sleepy, but didn't do much to protect him from Ethan's seething disappointment.

"I'm... sorry?" Cal offered, once the tense silence became too unbearable.

"Well, doesn't that sound sincere."

"I didn't mean to go it just, sort of... happened."

"I would have gone with you," Ethan said wearily. "If you'd have just waited. We were supposed to be doing this together. Then I don't have to worry about you beating up members of the government."

They hit a speedbump and Cal winced, hand flying to the back of his head.

Ethan eyed him with concern. "You don't feel nauseous do you? No double vision?"

"I've just spent the last few hours answering those questions," Cal reminded Ethan gently. "It's a minor concussion, at most."

"It could have been more," Ethan murmured, eyes back on the road. "I don't think I've seen two people fighting like that since- well, since we fought on that bridge, remember?"

"Yeah I remember." Neither of them mentioned that that, too, had been over Taylor.

"I mean what if something were to _actually_ happen?" Ethan continued in his earlier vein. "Something more than a bump on the head? It's not just about you anymore. You have Tilda, and any risk to you is a risk to her."

"Toad will be fine," Cal said dismissively. "You'd look after her, if anything happened to me. Right?"

Ethan sighed, sadly. "That isn't the point Cal."

* * *

"You should go to bed." Ethan threw his keys into the bowl and went to the fridge for one of Matilda's bottles. "Unless you're hungry, I could make you some food?"

"No, um, bed sounds good." Cal watched his brother bustle around the kitchen, Tilda on the table in her carrier. "Are you, you know, alright with her? You don't need any help?"

"I can manage by myself." The honesty behind this simple statement made it land harsher than if Ethan had aimed to insult. "Just go to bed. Call me if you need anything."

Cal did as he was told, with his metaphorical tail tucked between his legs.


End file.
